


The Best Thing That's Ever Been Mine

by Lithium012



Category: VIXX
Genre: Based off a song, Divorce, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I'm Sorry, M/M, birthday gift, daycare worker Keo, florist Hakyeon, mentioned hongbin and sanghyuk, relationships are very hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 20:00:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16817449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lithium012/pseuds/Lithium012
Summary: “We can’t do this,” Hakyeon mutters. Taekwoon could feel his arms snaking around, tugging him closer. “We really can’t be doing this.”“Why not?” For once, Hakyeon couldn’t find the words to say. For once, Taekwoon could. “Just… try it with me. If it doesn’t work, then it doesn’t work. Just try.”---Or when Hakyeon meets Taekwoon and doesn't know how to cope with the feels.





	The Best Thing That's Ever Been Mine

**Author's Note:**

> This is a long awaited birthday gift to my Best Friend for Life. Honestly, it took a lot of revision to do and I'm eternally grateful to those who helped read it, and to my memiest K-popper for helping in the editing. 
> 
> Yes this fan fiction is based of Taylor Swift's Mine. I hope you all enjoy~!

It was on a Monday morning, during his daily commute to work, Taekwoon passes by a new flower shop that just opened in his neighbourhood. The sweet scent of flowers entices him, bewitching him to come closer. He bends down, inhaling the floral perfume from the petals of a rather beautiful flower, of whose name he could not place.

“Would you like to buy something? Or do you need some help?” a voice, sweet and warm like a plate homemade caramel cookies, asks. Taekwoon freezes. There’re two things he’s not particularly good at; meeting new people and interacting with said new people. Jerkily, he lifts his head, facing possibly the most beautiful man he has ever laid eyes on. Dark bangs falling gracefully over the man’s forehead and a warm smile that lights up his eyes, staring back down at him curiously.

Perhaps out of instinct or fear (Taekwoon goes with the latter), he doesn’t say anything. Pretending that man didn’t say anything. He swallows, continuing to stare at the flowers. When he looks again, the man is still there, this time, he bent down beside Taekwoon; staring directly at him.

“These are petunias,” he says, pointing to the flowers. “Those are daffodils.” He points to another set of flowers. He continues to point out each individual flower, rambling on and on about colour, fragrance, prices, and perhaps the trajectory of the sun and moon. But one thing’s for sure, he is not in the least bit bothered by Taekwoon’s silence. Silence in it of itself is awkward, it’s an awkward placeholder. But with him, that doesn’t seem to be the case. Instead, it’s comforting. A comfortable silence.

Taekwoon’s eyes glance over at the man’s nametag. _Cha Hakyeon._ A beautiful name for an equally beautiful person. He swallows again, wanting to run. He’s well on his way to being late for work but, something is telling him to stay. Listen to Cha Hakyeon talk; listen to the voice that sounds like wind chimes, blowing in the spring breeze. He tilts his head, listening. His tongue feels thick, as if he’d just eaten a jar full of sticky peanut butter, in his mouth. It’s like he suddenly couldn’t breathe.

His phone suddenly rings, scaring both him and Cha Hakyeon. He stands, albeit a bit too quickly. “I’m sorry,” he says, fumbling with his phone. “I need to go.” The sound of his eccentric co-worker’s voice lashes out at him, telling him what he already knows: he’s late for work. He turns to leave, sparing one last cursory glance at Cha Hakyeon, still bent down, staring at the flowers.

The serene smile on Cha Hakyeon’s lips prompts a serene smile on Taekwoon’s lips.

~***~

Cha Hakyeon is someone who doesn’t believe in love. Not after bearing witness to his parents’ vicious divorce. Love. It’s such a fragile little thing, something so easily broken. Maybe he’s bitter, scared even; he isn’t sure. But one thing is for sure; he’ll never fall in love. Not in a million fucking years.

It’s a vow he made to himself years ago. It’s a vow he’s adamant on keeping.

Till he sees a beautiful man outside the flower shop one Monday morning, just bent over the flowers. He tilts his head, angling himself just right to see outside. He wants to know why that mysterious man is just hunched over the vases, not even bothering to come inside. He wants to know that man’s name, a small flutter rising in his chest, beating its wings against his ribs. Hakyeon walks outside and asks him if he would like to buy something. The man seems to freeze up, not replying, as though mute.

Fine by Hakyeon. He’s always been good at mindless small talk. He squats down beside the somber-looking man, pointing to all the different flowers he has on sale. The man doesn’t move, but the small tilt of his head gives Hakyeon the impression that he’s listening. No one ever really listens to Hakyeon: it’s another insecurity he has had since childhood when someone told him that he “talked too much” and that he should learn to remain quiet. The man’s phone rings, scaring the living daylights out of Hakyeon. He watches him fumble a bit, nearly dropping his phone in an effort to pick it up.

Hakyeon doesn’t like to admit it, but it’s adorable to see. He swallows, ready to go back inside when he hears the man’s soft voice apologize to him.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.” Hakyeon watches him leaves before turning back to the flowers. A serene smile on his lips; slowly, his eyes flutter shut. _The language of love, huh?_ His hand reaches out, bringing one close to him. Unbeknownst to him; the soft voiced, beautiful man is watching him too, an equally serene smile playing on his lips.

~***~

Twenty years of marriage broke down in a year when Hakyeon was just 12 years old. His parents hid the fighting well, so it came as a total shock when they announced it at dinner one night. As if divorce is something you simply could tell over a light family dinner. Hakyeon can still remember the tears that had fallen from his eyes, all while asking if this was all his fault. He can still remember how his parents didn’t answer him, unsure of what to say. The silence left the longest impact on Hakyeon; where he spent his entire life believing that _he_ was the cause of a broken marriage.

Fourteen years spent hating his father for abandoning them, for breaking his mother’s heart. Fourteen years spent having to support her through the rough patches. Fourteen years and ongoing spent hating himself.

Fourteen years spent and ongoing spent breaking people’s hearts, running when the relationship gets in too deep too fast. Their faces haunted him, his past lovers. He can still see the broken looks of everyone who’s now broken whenever he goes to sleep, too riddled with remorse but unable to stop this vicious cycle of heart break. 

Just because his own father believed that love was simply a game to be played, a game where there are no winners, just pawns to fuel his own selfish desires. 

By the end of his shift on Friday, he had sold thirteen bouquets of flowers to people who’d forgot to buy something for their sweetheart. The looks of utter relief on their faces has bitterness and fear gripping him by the hair. That bitterness hits him particularly hard when they’d ask him, “Have you ever been in love?” Hakyeon never knows how to answer that question. He isn’t sure if he should flat out admit that “no, he’s never been love” to those happy couples. So, in order to protect them, he steers the conversation somewhere else.

Why should they have broken hearts and goodbyes when they did nothing to deserve it?

He flips the sign to close, preparing to lock up when someone calls to him.

“Wait!” He freezes, turning around. A man, with a prominent nose and plush lips, stands on the sidewalk, trying to catch his breath. “Wait,” he says, gasping for air. “Are you closed?”

“I’m about to be,” Hakyeon replies. “Why?”

“I want to buy some flowers. My co-worker told me about this place.” Hakyeon checks his watch, it isn’t like he’s in a rush to go home. He unlocks the door and lets the man in.

“I don’t have much of a selection left,” he says, walking behind the register. “I sincerely apologize.”

“It’s okay,” the man says. “Wonshik loves just about anything. I’m Jaehwan by the way.”

“Hakyeon.” Hakyeon pauses, letting silence envelope them. A question lingers at the back of his mind. Should he even ask? “Is Wonshik your partner?”

“Yup!” Jaehwan responds. “Wonshik and I have been together for five years now.” Jaehwan’s voice changes as he speaks about Wonshik; there’s a lightness to it, devoid of the bitterness Hakyeon suddenly feels. Hakyeon can’t even begin to fathom how someone could make a relationship last that long. They seldom do, eventually severing ties and moving on to the next potential heartbreak. Five years! That seems like an eternity to Hakyeon, a dream, a fantasy! He wouldn’t, however, shove his bitterness onto the obviously happy couple

“I’d like this one,” Jaehwan says, handing over a small rose. The rose is slightly wilted, with a strange colouration on it. It’s not entirely pink, nor is it entirely red, nor is it entirely white. It’s tricoloured and no one wants a tricoloured rose.

“Are you sure?” Hakyeon asks, looking down at the tricoloured rose. “It’s… a tricoloured rose. It’s not normal.”

“Wonshik likes things that aren’t normal.” Jaehwan winks. “That’s why he’s dating me.” Hakyeon chuckles, shaking his head. _What a character._ He offers the rose to Jaehwan, for free instead. He couldn’t sell it anyways.

“Thank you!” Hakyeon flashes him a smile; his signature one. It’s always been genuine, despite what his mother says.

“Taekwoon is right,” Jaehwan murmurs. “You _do_ have a nice smile.”

“What?”

“Nothing! Thank you for the rose!”

 _What a strange character,_ Hakyeon thinks, walking home, having finally closed the shop for the night. The thought of the two being together for five years now has him scoffing.

Why do people bother with love if it never lasts?

~***~

Taekwoon didn’t expect Jaehwan to go to Cha Hakyeon’s flower shop. It, in fact, was the very last thing he expected him to do. He doesn’t like it, but for what reason, Taekwoon isn’t so sure.

Jaehwan had always been good at making friends; it came naturally to him. That’s why Jaehwan dealt with the parents and Taekwoon dealt with the children; though brutally honest, they didn’t get upset when he sometimes struggles to find the words to say.

“He seemed a bit shocked that Wonshik and I have been together for so long,” Jaehwan says, helping a kid into his coat.

“Maybe he doesn’t do love,” Taekwoon replies, shrugging.

“Who doesn’t do love?” Jaehwan looks a bit appalled by that fact. “It’s a great thing when the right person comes into your life.” A soft smile dances on his lips and Taekwoon scoffs, still recovering from all those traumatizing times he walked in on the two of them making out. “You believe in love.”

“Yes, but it doesn’t mean everyone will.” Taekwoon pats the child on the shoulder, shooing him to play with the other kids. A new addition to their small daycare. “You can’t expect people to… you know, believe in everything you believe. That’s simply unrealistic.”

Jaehwan nods, but something else is bothering him. Taekwoon has worked with the other long enough to believe it. “Do you like him?”

“Who?”

“Hakyeon, the shop owner.”

Taekwoon doesn’t answer, his cheek red. “I mean… he’s…”

“You _do_ like him,” Jaehwan shouts, smacking him on the shoulder. “Amazing! I knew you’d find someone!” Taekwoon couldn’t reply, his head dipping down and his cheeks burning. Oh god, why does Jaehwan have to be so intuitive? Even more so, why did he have to scream it so loudly? He panics even more as he comes to a sudden realization.

If he tells Wonshik, Wonshik will tell Hongbin and Hongbin will tell Sanghyuk. And, this could only mean one thing. Taekwoon is going to get teased for having a crush at the age of twenty-six. He buries his face into his hands.

“Don’t tell Wonshik please!” he begs.

“What? Why not?” Jaehwan asks, blinking innocently.

“He’ll tell the two demon children, and without a doubt, those demon children will tease me to no end! I can’t handle that kind of stress!”

Jaehwan pouts, crossing his arms. “Fine. I won’t. Not till you make a move on him.” He grins, and Taekwoon suddenly wants to punch him. But not in front of all the little impressionable kids. Maybe he’ll punch him later, when Jaehwan least expects it.

(He manages to a couple days later, when Jaehwan – that little shit – asks Taekwoon if he’s done any progress)

~***~

It takes Taekwoon a month to go back to the flower shop, still flustered from the very first encounter with Cha Hakyeon. He’s there, with that smile on his face; assisting another customer. His eye catches Taekwoon’s and he bids the customer farewell, walking towards Taekwoon. Taekwoon does what every wise person does in situations like this.

He panics. Hard. He hardcore panics, thinking of every excuse in the book to give to Cha Hakyeon.

“Have you finally decided on something you’d like to buy, or did you come to listen to me ramble on about flowers?” Cha Hakyeon asks, teasingly, his smile still on his face. Taekwoon peers down at him, taking in every minute detail. He panics, and instead of providing an answer like a functioning human being of society, he dumbly points to a random flower arrangement. “You want to know about roses?” Taekwoon confirms by giving a sharp nod, one that’d be missed if Cha Hakyeon had not been watching him. “Alright then.”

He spends an hour listening to Cha Hakyeon ramble about flowers without absorbing a single thing. Taekwoon realizes that he simply loves listening to Hakyeon talk. It could be about anything and Taekwoon would want to hear it. The voice is melodic yet comforting; familiar in a sense. It’s a feeling of protection and being listened to.

 _Ah shit,_ Taekwoon thinks as he follows Hakyeon around. _I’m in love with someone who doesn’t even know my name._

“Taekwoon,” he says, quickly he covers his mouth in surprise. Mentally, he slaps himself for speaking without being prompted to. Hakyeon pauses mid-sentence and Taekwoon is terrified he made the other angry for interrupting him. His heart beats loudly in his ears as he waits with bated breath. 

“Hakyeon,” he finally says, smiling. This time, brighter. It reaches his eyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

By the end of the second hour, Hakyeon has to close the shop for the night. “I’m sorry to kick you out,” he says, coughing a bit and taking a sip from his water bottle. “I don’t think I’ve talked that much in a while.”

“It’s okay,” Taekwoon says, his mouth and brain finally moving at the same speed. “I like the sound of your voice.” There it is. Another stupid thing Taekwoon had said in the last 2 hours. He clamps a hand over his mouth again, staring wide eyed at Hakyeon. The other has gone silent, but in the dim lighting of the flower shop, he could see a red hue on Hakyeon’s cheeks.

“O-Oh?” he mumbles. “R-re-really now? Are you playing a trick on me?”

“What?”

“Ah…” Hakyeon says, locking up the register. “Please forget I said anything.” Taekwoon doesn’t want to forget. He wants to take Hakyeon’s voice and store it away in his memories. He wants to wrap Hakyeon up with his own scarf in the winter time just so that ball of warmth is sheltered from the cold. He wants to feed Hakyeon strawberries in the summer time, giving him everything he deserves.

He can imagine a future with Hakyeon and he doesn’t know why.

“C-Can I have your number?” Taekwoon asks, holding out his phone. “So… We can talk more.”

“Why?” Hakyeon counters, taking the phone regardless, typing his number in. “Why do you want to talk to me? I’m boring.”

“No,” Taekwoon says, watching Hakyeon send a message to himself. “Never think of yourself like that.” Hakyeon doesn’t say anything else, how could he? Hakyeon lowers his head down, covering his reddening face. Honestly, it’s the most adorable thing Taekwoon has ever seen in his life. It’s reminiscent small child or a kitten, a small kitten child. Taekwoon is overcome with an irrational urge to drop everything and coo at him whilst swaddling him in an oversized blanket.

 _God,_ Taekwoon thinks to himself. _What is wrong with me?_

“Blanket purrito,” he mumbles aloud, much to his own horror. Another dumbass thought that has him slapping himself over the head.

Hakyeon breaks out in hysterical laughter. “Oh my god, what was that!?” he asks, still laughing. Taekwoon could listen to his laugh forever, and ever. It’s sweet, like a candied apple or a sugary coating on a piece of candy.

“You’re adorable,” Hakyeon giggles out, waving at Taekwoon from beneath the streetlight. “I’ll see you sometime Taekwoon.” Taekwoon dumbly raises his hand, still staring at Hakyeon walking away. It takes a moment, but three things register in Taekwoon’s love sick mind. One, Hakyeon said he was adorable. Two, in the wise words of Sanghyuk, he “nailed” it. Three, Hakyeon said he wanted to see Taekwoon again.

_Nailed it._

~***~

Hakyeon spends the better part of his Sunday night, three days after he gives Taekwoon his number, staring at his messages. (Hakyeon saves Taekwoon as “Kitten Blanket Purrito” but he’ll never tell Taekwoon that). He isn’t sure what to say to the other that doesn’t make him sound boring. It was an issue his mother had with his father, one she had no trouble voicing at any given opportunity.

“ _He’s boring!_ ”

“ _I want to rip my ears out whenever he talks!_ ”

“ _Hakyeon, promise me you won’t become boring like your father._ ”

After that, Hakyeon went through a million and one hobbies; just so he’d have something besides “dance” on his dating profile. He wants people to know that he’s well-educated in other things; like figure skating. Or singing. Or song writing. But, at the same time, he’d drop the hobby just as fast as he’d pick up and master them.

As he texts Taekwoon; he notices how his messages falling back on long winded ramblings. Only to have Taekwoon respond with a message containing a sentence or so. Hakyeon bites his lower lip, wondering if he should stop. End the conversation before he falls in too deep.

However, something keeps him drawn to the other. Like a magnetic force, pulling him closer and closer to the other. He finds out that Taekwoon is addicted to coffee, drinking up to twelve cups a day! He has a love for kittens and kids.

“I’m a daycare worker,” he says, during a phone call one night. “I love kids.”

“What about kids do you love?”

“How they seem to accept me,” he replies, his voice softening even more. “Little kids are okay with the fact I don’t talk a lot.”

Another fact he learns about Taekwoon is how he finds words difficult to form. Difficult to use. “Words are a necessity to life,” Taekwoon sighs, one night. “I don’t know how to use them.”

“Could you use another way of communicating?” Hakyeon asks, sitting in front of his TV and watching a sappy love story. He cringes at the sight, turning it off. “There’s more ways than one to speak.”

“You still require words.” Hakyeon swallows, thinking back to his parents. They used so many other ways of communicating the hate they had for each other. He thinks about how his mother would simply leave the moment his father came in. Those little signs, the ones he didn’t notice before; comes back to bite him. He’s done the same thing before to his former lovers.

Deleting their numbers, refusing to even look them in the eye – all forms of communication.

“No,” he says. “Not always.”

“Tell me another way I could talk without having _to_ talk.”

And Hakyeon couldn’t.

~***~

Hakyeon had always known that love was a curse, casted upon him, and forcing him to run before everything got in too deep. But two months into the relationship (he couldn’t call it that however, that thing he has with Taekwoon is somewhere in between a close friendship and a romantic relationship), he finds himself falling. Crashing into this hard. The anxiety that’s building in his stomach boils over.

Suddenly, Hakyeon couldn’t breathe. He can’t be falling in love. This isn’t what he’s supposed to do. He’s supposed to leave. Pack up his things and move again. He holds onto the counter, staring down. He’s supposed to run away from his issues instead of facing them. That’s what his parents did. That’s how he learned to deal with everything thrown at him.

Hide it till the issue resolves itself. Pretend it doesn’t exist. It’s stops being real the harder Hakyeon thinks about it. He gasps, when the door to the shop opens. Jaehwan, the man who bought his lover a single rose, walks in. His small lifesaver comes to rescue him from drowning. Jaehwan waves at him, scurrying up.

“Hey Hakyeon!” he says, smiling.

“Are you here to buy more flowers?” Hakyeon asks. If he focuses on work, it’ll distract him from the evitable doom. He’ll have to face Jung Taekwoon – the literal embodiment of an adorable kitten – soon. And Hakyeon will have to face the reality of it all. He’s falling in love with Taekwoon and that’s utterly terrifying.

“Yeah,” Jaehwan says, rubbing the back of his head. “Wonshik really liked the rose.” Hakyeon chuckles, forced but he has always been a good actor. He hid the fact his parents blamed him for their failed marriage from the world, what’s one more person?

“Does he want more roses?”

“I’ll see what you have. Like I said, Wonshik likes anything.” He bounces around, staring at the different flowers. Hakyeon leans against the counter, watching the man. It’s a strange concept to see someone so happy. He supposes that’s what love does, but he simply doesn’t believe it. He’s not the kind of person to break down those guards that he has held up for so damn long.

He watches Jaehwan pick out another tricolour rose, bring it forward. “He’ll like this one.”

“Why?”

Jaehwan blinks. “Why what?”

“Why would he like tricoloured roses?”

That seems to have him silent for a moment, lost in thought. “Because,” Jaehwan says slowly. “Each colour represents something to him. Love. Lust. Passion. He said that’s what every relationship needs in order to grow. You simply love someone because they love you.” He shrugs, smiling back up at the older.

Hakyeon feels a lump grow in his throat. Loving someone simply because they love you. That’s bullshit; it has to be bullshit. Blinking, he rings up Jaehwan, watching him walk away. When he does, Hakyeon thinks back to all the times his lovers told him they loved him.

“ _You can’t love me,_ ” he said to each and every one of them.

“ _Watch me_ ,” they said, and three months later; Hakyeon ran. He couldn’t help it; the fear was simply too great. Swallowing, he looks at the clock, wondering when Taekwoon would walk through his flower shop. Fifteen minutes later, Taekwoon dashes in, his hair messy. He gasps for air, looking at Hakyeon, cheeks flushed.

“Hi,” he says, smiling a bit. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Hakyeon asks, tilting his head.

“Being late.”

“You aren’t late.” Taekwoon is actually twenty minutes late but Hakyeon wouldn’t tell him that. “I’m about to close up. Do you…?”

Taekwoon looks around the shop, staring at different flowers. “Do you want to get something to drink?”

Hakyeon freezes, looking at the man with black hair and high cheek bones in his flower shop. The man who listens to him while he talks, even if the topic is boring. Something in him compels him to say “yes”. Something tells him to go on that. So, against his own fear; he agrees.

“Where would we go?” he asks.

“My place?” Taekwoon says. “There’s nothing that’s opened now.”

“Okay,” Hakyeon replies, smiling. “I’d love to get something to drink with you.” _Just as long as I don’t fall for you._ He keeps his eyes on Jung Taekwoon. The longer he stares the more he realizes that he’s falling, hard. Harder than he ever fell. This revelation scares Hakyeon, just as much as it makes him want it.

~***~

Taekwoon never found longing, comfortable silence to be awkward. Instead, he loved it. It’s the tension builder to an intense musical score. It’s the tension released after said musical number. It’s the thing that holds the most amount of emotion within a person. When you’re silent, there’s a million and one emotions hanging in the air. Taekwoon never feels like suffocating. Except when that long silence comes from Cha Hakyeon.

To describe Cha Hakyeon would require three dictionaries (one of which contains nothing, but unusual words not found in the English or Korean language; the other which contains nothing but allegories; and finally, a normal one). But one word that wouldn’t fit is: Silent. Cha Hakyeon is never silent. So why is he silent now?

It unnerves Taekwoon if he’s being honest. Not being able to hear someone – who normally talks – talk is unnerving. He isn’t sure what to say. Should he comfort him? Should he ask him what’s wrong? Or is that going too far into Hakyeon’s comfort zone?

Swallowing, he tugs on his sweater sleeves, pulling them down. His eyes dart to the smaller male, whose eyes are narrowed down, mouth turning into a frown. Taekwoon blinks; unsure of what to say or do. It’s one of those moments where words severely fail him. And that lack of words is the reason why people don’t bother with him.

It’s never been shyness; it’s always been fear of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong person.

“Why?” Hakyeon finally asks; pausing under a streetlight. Taekwoon stops, turning around. Hakyeon’s eyes reflects a world of pain; misery and something else. Longing maybe. But a wall stands in front, glaring down at everyone who dares enters. “Why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean?”

Hakyeon swallows, staring. “I mean… why are you making me fall for you? I-I don’t _do_ relationships.”

Taekwoon couldn’t find the words to say. His mouth dry. Hakyeon continues to ramble; nothing making sense. On the verge of insanity, Taekwoon strides over, pulling the smaller man close and hugging him.

Hakyeon smells like the flowers from his shop and vanilla from his candles. Purely intoxicating; something Taekwoon can’t get out of his mind. An imprint on his senses that haunts him in the middle of night whenever he simply couldn’t sleep.

“We can’t do this,” Hakyeon mutters. Taekwoon could feel his arms snaking around, tugging him closer. “We really can’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” For once, Hakyeon couldn’t find the words to say. For once, Taekwoon could. “Just… try it with me. If it doesn’t work, then it doesn’t work. Just try.”

Taekwoon holds his breath; unable to say more. All his energy is gone, spent in a thirty second monologue.

“Okay,” Hakyeon says, after a short little while. One that felt like an eternity. “Let’s try.” And Taekwoon lets go of the weight that’s been holding him back for so long.

~***~

A week after being asked out, Hakyeon sits at his dining table, with a mug of hot tea in between his hands. His mind going at him, two sides yelling at him, ringing out like a gong. Hakyeon doesn’t know why he continues to do this. Why does he keep falling into relationships blindly? He doesn’t have an answer for himself. He feels like an idiot, going into a relationship with someone utterly incredible. Hurting Taekwoon would be like hurting a small kitten; it’s cruel and inhumane. He swallows, staring at his options.

If he leaves now, there’s no repercussions. If he leaves later, he’ll be killing someone he cares about. But, on the other hand, his own selfishness gets in the way. He wants it, he wants Taekwoon so bad that it hurts. He wants to hold that man close, press his face into his neck, smell that scent of coffee and orchids.

He really wants this one to work. He wants this one, just this one, to be the solution to all his past mistakes. He wants this relationship to be the one that mends the scar that runs down in his mind, heal over his parents’ mistakes. Swallowing, Hakyeon stops his fretting and decides, maybe, just maybe, this is the one he’s going to try his hardest on.

A _ding!_ from his phone shakes him out of his head; a dangerous place to be when you’re alone. A message from Taekwoon (aka. Kitten Blanket Purrito – again something he’ll never tell Taekwoon). Hakyeon reads it, feeling a dread or maybe it’s something else, in the pit of his stomach. It’s like falling through thin ice and sinking, drowning in the icy waters. A chill that goes down his spine.

He can’t do it. He can’t hurt someone who’s willing to try and still be okay with him leaving. That night flashes back to him, standing under the streetlights, the hug, that scent of coffee and orchids. Everything. It’s in his kitchen, spreading around in waves and echoes. A glittery ribbon of colours.

Hakyeon is falling hard and he isn’t sure if he wants it to stop.

He pushes his mug and phone aside, placing his head down on the table. “Stupid,” he mutters. “If you, Cha Hakyeon, hurts Jung Taekwoon in anyway, I’ll never forgive you.” He knows he sounds insane, talking to himself. But he simply couldn’t help it. It’s the only way he’ll promise to never hurt his precious Kitten Blanket Purrito.

Another _ding!_ scares him. He jolts, looking at his phone.

 **Kitten Blanket Purrito:** Do you want to see the lake?

 **Kitten Blanket Purrito:** The lights are really pretty this time of year.

Hakyeon did like looking at lights. The impulse in him prevents him from texting back “No, I can’t”. Instead, he messages Taekwoon back, “Yes, I’d love to”. Moments later, Taekwoon’s message comes in, one that warms Hakyeon’s cold, dead heart.

 **Kitten Blanket Purrito:** I’ll see you soon.

~***~

Taekwoon blows out some air from his mouth, staring at the puff of clouds that escape his lips. Standing near the park, at eight at night in the beginning of winter is probably one of the craziest he’s ever done in his life. The first has to be asking Hakyeon out. It’s out of character for him. He’s not spontaneous like Jaehwan nor is he confident like Wonshik.

He’s shy, he’s safe, he’s a piece of plain white bread. Utterly boring to everyone who doesn’t understand him. Taekwoon sighs, fiddling with his phone, rereading the message that Hakyeon sent, moments before they were set to meet.

 **The Best Thing That’s Mine:** It’s cold outside!

 **The Best Thing That’s Mine:** I hope u dressed warmly

 **The Best Thing That’s Mine:** ill be there in 20 minutes

Taekwoon arrived at their meeting spot a good half an hour early and now his toes are just about frozen. Just as Taekwoon is about to get up and run around a bit, Hakyeon arrives carrying two cups of piping hot something. He lets out a sigh of relief. Any longer and his fingers would have frozen off too.

“I’m sorry, I’m late!” Hakyeon breathes out, catching his breath. “Here.” He shoves one of the cups of the piping hot something into Taekwoon’s hands. “You really shouldn’t be drinking coffee this late at night, but…”

“Is it coffee?” Taekwoon immediately asks, bringing the lid close to his face and sniffing. It smells like coffee, but knowing Hakyeon, it could have easily been another one of his scents he uses in his candles. “It smells like coffee.”

“Why don’t you take a sip?” He obeys, sipping it and wincing from the heat. He hears Hakyeon giggling and mumbling about how Taekwoon has a cat’s tongue. He lets out a scoff, letting the heat from the cup warm up his fingers.

“Come,” he says, turning down the road that leads to the lights. Hakyeon follow him, his steps matching with Taekwoon’s. Together they walk in silence, listening to the sounds of the leaves, slowly falling from the trees, crunching under their feet. The smell of “fake” coffee in the air, mixing in with the fresh smell of nature. And the heat that radiates from Hakyeon.

It’s like looking at sunshine. An ethereal being that descended from the heavens itself, blessing the world with their presence. Taekwoon gets starstruck every time he looks at Hakyeon. From the wavy black hair that hangs over his forehead to the way he holds himself. He practically radiates confidence, love, acceptance. A salad bowl of emotions and characteristics.

They stop in front of a large lake that sits in the middle of the park. Taekwoon takes a peek at Hakyeon, seeing the sheer awe in his face. Taekwoon hasn’t been at this part of the park in years. The lake, though dirtier than he remembered, still did its job. Reflecting the decorative lights that hangs on the trees. Hakyeon nearly drops his cup of piping hot something, letting out a small yelp. He looks up at Taekwoon, sheepish and smiling to hide his embarrassment.

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

“No,” Taekwoon replies, deeming his drink to be cool enough for human consumption. “It’s okay.” He takes a sip, eyes widening in shock. Rich, creamy chocolate floods his taste buds. Something that isn’t too sweet, nor is it too bitter. The perfect blend. “What is this?”

“Hot chocolate,” Hakyeon replies, eyes never leaving the lights. “Someone told me about the coffee shop on main and I thought I’d swing by before… Yeah. Why? Did I mess up?”

“No. I’m just – thank you.” This time Hakyeon turns to face him, face inches apart. Taekwoon can see an entire world in his dark eyes. His cheeks bunch up into a smile, eyes turning into half-crescent moons.

“Thank you for showing me this,” he says, voice dipped in sincerity. “I really… yeah. Thank you.” Taekwoon doesn’t know what to say or do. Hakyeon does, leaning forward and giving Taekwoon a small kiss on his cheek. One that sends sparks up and down his body, electrifying him. His cheeks heat up and suddenly, he isn’t cold anymore. His toes aren’t going to freeze off and he isn’t going to die of hyperthermia because he’d standing outside for so long.

The ray of sunshine pierces his skin and cuts him up; tearing its way through. God, can he feel anymore alive?

The entire way back, Hakyeon holds his hand; not letting go, even for a second.

~***~

Hakyeon could feel heat radiating from Taekwoon’s body as they sit on the sofa together. A few months has passed, an all-time record for Hakyeon. His relationships never last longer than 3 months, with him disappearing and them never wanting to speak to him ever again. A fair thing to do. Taekwoon rests his head on Hakyeon’s lap, while Hakyeon absentmindedly run his fingers through those long, silky strands. The show on the TV isn’t important, another stupid love drama about a girl falling in love with an asshole.

“They’re really something, aren’t they?” Hakyeon says, staring at the TV. “Why do they even bother if they aren’t meant for each other?” He could never understand why girls would go after a guy who’s clearly not meant for them. They don’t work together. It’s like mixing sweet and sour together, a deadly combination for a relationship. The one that breaks it up.

Hakyeon shudders at the thought. A broken relationship, one like his parents.

“Maybe…” Taekwoon mumbles, sleepy. “Opposites attract?”

“No such thing.”

“Well, we were attracted somehow.” Hakyeon doesn’t know how to reply, thinking about all the similarities they share. The thing that he likes about Taekwoon. “Maybe it does exist somewhat.”

“No,” Hakyeon replies, lowering the TV volume. “Opposites don’t attract, they’re not… I mean.” Taekwoon opens his eyes, staring up at Hakyeon. Something in his eyes asks him what’s wrong; Hakyeon doesn’t meet his eyes. Instead, he eyes the small container that sits on his coffee table. A small token of Taekwoon existing in Hakyeon’s apartment.

Something scary, utterly and horrifically scary enters Hakyeon’s mind. Swallowing, Hakyeon falls back on his sofa, fingers still entangling themselves in Taekwoon’s hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispers out. “I’m not good with relationships.”

“Neither am I,” Taekwoon replies, eyes closing again. “But you said you’d try.” And trying to keep something that might fail is burdening. It’s heavy on Hakyeon’s shoulders, pushing him down and suffocating him.

He thinks back to all those phone arguments his mother and father got in. How the words “I’m trying, okay!?” would fall on deaf ears. If they were really trying, they wouldn’t have broken it so quickly. How on earth is Hakyeon going to try when all he knows is good-bye?

“And it’s okay,” Hakyeon asks, swallowing once more. “It’s okay if it doesn’t work right?”

Taekwoon makes a noise of confirmation. “Just as long as we tried.”

“Okay.” Hakyeon thinks he could do that. He continues to run his fingers through Taekwoon’s hair, staring at the TV. If people on TV can make it, so can he.

~***~

Hakyeon picks up a box of newly shipped flowers, allowing the waft of heavenly scents to overwhelm his senses. The beautiful swirls of colours blend and blur together as he places them into vases. Three orders are set aside as Hakyeon mills around his little shop. The door opening, charming the little bell that hangs above.

“Welcome!” Hakyeon shouts, closing the cooler door.

“So, this is the place?” A deeper voice says, looking around. Instantly, Hakyeon places the man on his radar, making sure to watch his every movement. He stares at the man, with duel coloured hair, walking in and looking around as if he’s judging Hakyeon. A pair of spectacles rests on the bridge of his nose. His eyes scan the store before settling on Hakyeon.

The massive boulder of human strides over. Hakyeon suddenly wants to be anywhere but here. Next thing he knows the boulder of human places a small wade of bills on the counter, pointing to a collection that Hakyeon just set up.

“What kind of flowers are those?” he asks, his voice sounding like he’s eaten a ton of rocks beforehand.

“Um… Birds of Paradise?” Hakyeon replies; scared out of his mind.

“Okay. I think Jaehwan would like those.” A beat of silence before Hakyeon stares at the towering human in shock. The guy looks back, his head tilting slightly; eyes looking at him in utter confusion. “Is there something on my face?”

“You’re Wonshik?!” Hakyeon shouts, scaring the other slightly. “I thought you were some strange weirdo who does dishes all day!”

Wonshik’s response is to stare back at Hakyeon, looking slightly offended but amused. “That’s Hongbin. I make music in a studio, which is at my house.” He blinks, looking at the vase of flowers. “So?”

“Ah, yes!” Hakyeon hurries over to the display case, pulling out the vase of flowers. “Is that everything?” Wonshik nods, holding out his hands for the vase. He smiles warmly at the flowers, and that moment, Hakyeon can see so much love reflecting in his eyes. The way they light up at the mere thought of Jaehwan. The very spark that Hakyeon feels like he lacks. It truly is a cruel fate.

“You’re…” Wonshik pauses, looking perplexed. As if wanting to say more but couldn’t. There’s something holding him back. Everything slows down. “You’re, Taekwoon’s boyfriend, right?”

Slowly, Hakyeon nods. “Ah,” he says, smiling warmly again. “He talks about you a lot.” With that, the human boulder known as Wonshik leaves Hakyeon’s flower shop. His words echoing in the back of Hakyeon’s mind. _He talks about me,_ he thinks. _He talks about me. Like… Like I’m worth something._

A warmth spreads through his body, and even in the dead of winter; he’s sure something will bloom. Like a spring bud, growing through the frozen soil. Something good will come his way. He has to believe in it. If he doesn’t, winter will come back, freezing him over again. And again.

At nine pm, Taekwoon walks into the flower shop with the smell of something delicious; homey, wafting through the air. It mixes with the flowers, overwhelming Hakyeon’s senses. He turns, staring at the man in the doorway. The white snow on his hair, his redden cheeks and half of his face hidden away; under a thick scarf. He stares at Hakyeon, holding out one of the cups.

“Tea,” he says. Hakyeon, pulling on his own jacket and bundling up, reaches out, grabbing it. It’s warm to the touch; probably cooled from the wind and snow.

“Thank you,” he says, bringing the cup closer. It smells like jasmine; another scent of home. Something heavy tugs on his heart, but something light tugs even harder, bringing his heart back up. Right to where it belongs. “Shall we go?” He holds out his hand, feeling Taekwoon taking it and putting it in his pocket.

The entire way home, Hakyeon never takes his hand out. Loving, basking and soaking up the warmth that came from a simple gesture. Taekwoon stares straight ahead, focused on taking Hakyeon home. Hakyeon doesn’t know what to say, not wanting to break the comfortable silence that surrounds them. At a stoplight, the streetlight illuminates them. Hakyeon begins to the feel the cold, seeping through his body.

“Are you cold?” Taekwoon asks, seeing Hakyeon’s lower lip turning blue.

“I’ll be okay once I get home.” But, without a warning, Taekwoon pulls his big scarf off and wraps it around Hakyeon. “Oh, you don’t have to—”

“But I want to.” And that’s all it takes. Hakyeon squeezes his hand around Taekwoon’s, feeling him squeeze back. _God, I want to kiss him._ Five months in and they haven’t kissed. A long time for Hakyeon if he’s being honest. But, a surge of courage; golden liquid, pulses through his veins and he leans up. Taekwoon looks at him, placing his head down, as if he’s been waiting for this moment for so long.

It’s soft, like a baby’s blanket. It’s tender and it’s sweet, like a summer berry. Hakyeon could feel Taekwoon wrap his arms around the small of his back, deepening the kiss. Hakyeon wraps his own arms around Taekwoon’s neck, inhaling the scents of coffee and orchids. An intoxicating perfume that can’t be bottled, and it invades every single part of your mind; forcing you into an inescapable net. If he could, Hakyeon would bottle it up and make it into a candle that he’d only light on special occasions.

When they pull away, a glimmer of light flashes across the winter sky. A new hope already shining in the distance.

~***~

To say Taekwoon is stressed is and, forever will be, an understatement. With; not only a horde of crying kids coming at him (declaring that they’re going to miss him and not wanting to leave) as well as a horde of angry parents (for trying to steal their precious babies away) but also Hakyeon’s birthday coming up. And Taekwoon simply doesn’t know how to handle it all. The sheer amount of stress on his part builds.

Granted, he already didn’t know how to handle children who got too attached to the daycare and angry parents. But adding on top of his lover’s birthday (of nine months he should add); has Taekwoon pulling at his hair. It’s stressful, trying to think of something to give him. Hakyeon is the kind of person who doesn’t need a lot to be happy. And that’s the most terrifying thing ever.

It’s like he’s already fulfilled in his life. Giving him something materialistic would be like adding a drop of water into an ocean and hoping the ocean levels increase. It’s practically nothing. Taekwoon wants to bash his head into a pile of stuffed animals.

“Why are you violently attacking the stuffed animals?” Jaehwan asks, walking over. “What have they done to you?”

“I’m overwhelmed,” Taekwoon replies, rolling over onto his back. “What did you get Wonshik for his birthday?”

“A notebook; with little stars on it.” Taekwoon sits up, staring at Jaehwan; wanting him to elaborate some more. Jaehwan stares back, his eyes crossing slightly before giggling. “Okay, I cave. It’s this random notebook I found at the bookstore and his was already falling apart… so why not?”

“Doesn’t Wonshik have, like, three hundred notebooks already?” Taekwoon points out, remembering all those times he went over to their place and every visible surface was and, probably still is, covered in notebooks.

Jaehwan waves it off, sitting down next to Taekwoon. “You know the saying ‘it’s the thought that counts’? Yeah. It’s applied here. It just shows that you pay attention to them and that you care. How? _Because you listened to them!_ ” As relationship dumb Taekwoon might be (and he is very dumb at relationships; both friendships and romantic) he nods. An idea suddenly sparking up in his mind.

“That makes sense… thank you,” he says, giving Jaehwan a hug. Jaehwan hugs back, a human that craves contact. “Really, thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure to use protection!” And with that, Taekwoon shoves Jaehwan off and into the pile of stuffed animals. Face utterly red as he storms off with Jaehwan giggling like a maniac in the background.

~***~

As the days drop down, the anxiety and stress begin to seep through his pores, down into his bones. Taekwoon could feel his body being burned alive; an overwhelming wave of new fears and things to worry about. He can feel hot red liquid being poured over his body as everything seems to be crashing down on him. His mind couldn’t think, it couldn’t see and by the end of the week, every part of him is spent. He’s so spent that he missed Hakyeon’s call.

He didn’t notice till two days later when he wakes up to a flurry of worried messages and a very concerned Hakyeon standing at his door. His hair sticks to his forehead as he pants in Taekwoon’s doorway. His eyes brimming with so much concern. Taekwoon should just let Hakyeon in, let him do his thing. But at the moment, he couldn’t.

Not when another wave of anxiety crashes down on him and suffocates him. It’s hard to breathe, it’s like he’s dying. His heart beating rapidly; like the very time they met. Just like the very first time they met, Taekwoon couldn’t find the words to say. It’s like there’s cotton balls stuffed down his throat, choking him. His eyes go wide as Hakyeon stands in the doorway, ready to come in, when all Taekwoon wants is to simply be alone for a few days.

“Leave,” Taekwoon croaks out. _Why are you saying that?_ It isn’t what he means, but the words. The fucking words are stuck.

“What?” Hakyeon asks. “I’m worried about you. You – I, I mean you just went—”

“Can you just leave?” Taekwoon asks. _Just leave for a few days. I need some time alone to get my footing back._ “I…” Then the train of thought he had just died. Hakyeon stands in the doorway, his hands hanging limply by his side. He swallows and chuckles a bit.

“Yeah,” he says, laughing bitterly. Taekwoon tilts his head, wondering why. “I knew this wasn’t going to work.” He doesn’t say anything, listening to Hakyeon talk. The voice he loves so damn much is shattering right in front of him. Breaking off into tiny glass shards that stab and pierce Taekwoon in the most horrific ways possible. It’s like being brutally murdered but one murder that leaves no physical evidence.

“My parents were always right,” Hakyeon replies, the words tasting bitter like medicine. “Love doesn’t exist. I’m sorry I wasted your time.” With that, he turns away walking down the steps. Taekwoon stands there like a dumbass. He wants to chase after him, but the stress, anxieties, lack of words to say, keeps him at home. When he shuts the door, he slaps himself in the face.

“Oh god,” he mumbles, rubbing his face and burying it into his hands. “What have I done?” Is this a fight or is everything over?

~***~

Hakyeon wipes his eyes as he sits on the steps of his flower shop. It’s stupid, he’s stupid for even thinking about doing something like that. Falling in love? What a fucking joke. Hakyeon is stupid for falling for such trickery; a poisoned apple that came back to bite him in the butt. On the steps, he curls up into himself, wishing for that reality to fade away into a dream.

But it doesn’t. The reality is still there; it’s still harsh against his skin. A heated surface against his face as if he’s been slapped. But Taekwoon didn’t need to raise his hands, his silence did enough. Hakyeon waits out his tears that seems to refuse to subside. When he deems himself acceptable to go home, a customer waltzes to his shop.

“Jaehwan,” he says, getting up and placing his smiling mask on. “Do you want to buy some more tricoloured roses?”

“Well, I was wonder—are you crying?” Jaehwan asks back. “Your eyes are red.” Hakyeon doesn’t respond, too scared about breaking down in front of someone he barely knows. The tsunami of hurt, the memories of Taekwoon telling him to leave and then refusing to tell him why, however, remains fresh in his mind. And it has him hiccupping and struggling to keep his mask up. Jaehwan blinks, staring at him. Quietly, Jaehwan pulls out a small package of tissues; handing it over to Hakyeon. He thanks the latter, wiping away the falling tears.

“Am I stupid?” Hakyeon asks, while his mouth quirks up into a smile as fat tears roll down his cheeks. “I mean… I really liked him. I really did.” Jaehwan didn’t reply, simply responding by wrapping his arms around the older, pulling him close. For the next twenty minutes, all Hakyeon could do is sob into the arms of Jaehwan.

“I thought he liked me too,” he sobs, wiping away his tears and blowing his nose. “I really thought I wouldn’t be alone for once. I really did.” Jaehwan doesn’t reply, rubbing his back. Once the tears subside enough for Hakyeon to think coherently, Jaehwan grips the older’s shoulders.

“Listen to me,” Jaehwan says, a hard line of determination in his eyes. “Things will get better, I swear. You don’t deserve to be alone!” Hakyeon smiles back, a sad one that mirrors the faded lines in a light sketch.

“I really wish I can believe you. I really do.”

~***~

Taekwoon awakens the next morning to the sound of harsh and heavy pounding on his door. Neck aching from sleeping on the sofa and groggy, he stumbles to the door, yanking it open and mentally (and slightly physically) prepared to throw a bitch across the lawn. Instead of a bitch at his door, he gets Jaehwan, who looks absolutely confused and slightly annoyed.

“Taekwoon,” he says, pushing his way into Taekwoon’s small condo “What the hell? What did you say to Hakyeon yesterday?”

“Ho-How do you know about that?” Fighting with someone, or breaking up with someone, or hurting someone has always been a private matter; and Hakyeon doesn’t seem like the type to air his dirty laundry all over the place. Taekwoon stares at Jaehwan, touching his face. “Are you actually a psychic?”

Jaehwan slaps Taekwoon’s hand away in sheer annoyance. “No, you dummy. Well… Yes! But that isn’t the point! I found him all teary eyed and stuff at his flower shop. What didn’t you say?”

Taekwoon sighs, knowing the inevitable truth will come out, sooner or later. He leads Jaehwan into his kitchen, preparing himself a cup of coffee and offering a small strawberry milk box to his guest. His guest takes it, happily sipping on the milk. Sometimes, Jaehwan could be such a little kid, but it’s better to have a happy Jaehwan instead of one who’s scowling and angry. Angry Jaehwan is a bitchy Jaehwan.

“Explain,” Jaehwan says, the moment Taekwoon sits down. It takes him half an hour to get the words out from his mind. His throat suddenly closing up – maybe from stress or nerves, but Taekwoon doesn’t know – and how he couldn’t seem to stop Hakyeon from leaving, misunderstanding his words. Or rather lack thereof. Now everything is done and over with; a sharp pain and gash of reality sets in.

Taekwoon has never felt so stupid in his life.

Jaehwan, waiting for the right moment to finish his milk, turns to Taekwoon, pointing the milk box at him. “You are a dummy,” he says. “A big ole’ dummy.”

“Thanks for your encouragement. Can you leave so I can wallow in misery by myself?” He gets a smack for his sass, a small smile quirking up on his face.

“All you have to do is explain everything to him! And how much he really means to you.” Jaehwan exclaims, jolting up. “I mean, his birthday is coming up right?” Taekwoon nods, thinking back to his unfinished birthday gift. “I’ll bring him to your place and you’ll, I dunno, do your Taekwoon magic on him.” He reaches over and pinches the older’s cheeks. He glares but Jaehwan pays him no mind.

“And how is that going to work?” Taekwoon asks, one hundred percent certain (okay, maybe ninety-eight percent certain) that Hakyeon wouldn’t want anything to do with the latter. Jaehwan leans in, whispering his plan in rapid succession, as he does, Taekwoon’s eyes widen. When the younger is done, he sits back down, smirking with satisfaction. “That… might actually work.”

“I’m a genius, what can I say?”

“And now the moment is ruined. Thank you though.” Taekwoon smiles back, a song already formulating in his mind. “Now leave so I can work in private.”

“Rude,” Jaehwan retorts, getting up and slapping Taekwoon on the back. “You’ll get him back and you two will mate happily ever after.” For the second time in two weeks, Jaehwan is shoved off and giggles manically while Taekwoon’s face heats up.

~***~

At home, Taekwoon stares at his piano; sheet music scattered all around him. His fingers tap impatiently against the piano keys. His pen lays abandoned next to him; overused and running out of ink. Maybe he’s taking it too far; maybe this is too much. Or maybe, this isn’t something Taekwoon could even do. Maybe, Hakyeon doesn’t even want to come back.

He groans, placing slamming his head on the keys. His head feels like a bowl of jello; it’s burning out. Similar to the dying planet; eventually the flame will burn out. He decides its time to call his trump card. Wonshik.

“Hello?” Wonshik rumbles; as if he had just woken up from another nap. “What is it?”

“I need your help,” Taekwoon says, not even bothering with any greetings. He has deadlines to meet and time is running out.

“No ‘Hi Wonshik?’ No ‘How are you doing today?’ I’ve been good by the way.”

He rolls his eyes, deciding that Wonshik is learning too much bad things from Jaehwan. “Are you going to help, or do I have to go there and shake you awake?” He hears the younger male grumble, muttering about how he’ll be there in ten minutes.

Taekwoon smiles to himself as he hangs the phone up.

True to his word, Wonshik shows up at Taekwoon’s door ten minutes later with a cup of coffee. “I need this to not stab you,” Wonshik mumbles, staggering in. “Why did you wake me?”

“Song.” Taekwoon points to his piano. “Help.”

“Are you a three-year-old?”

He shakes his head, his brain feeling slow. It’s the feeling of being drowned in molasses, which makes him feel like a three-year-old kid. And the fact that the caffeine high that was in him earlier has worn off. “I feel squishy,” he states.

“And _that’s why_ you need my help?!” Wonshik rolls his eyes, sitting down at the piano bench. “Fine. I’ll help. Only if you buy me a new metronome.”

“Fine,” Taekwoon grumbles out, plopping down next to him.

“And a double cheese burger.”

“Don’t push it.”

~***~

June thirtieth is a busy day for Hakyeon, feeling rushed by the wave of orders. His wrists hurt from snipping the thorns of the roses. And by the end of the day, he has gone through four rolls of floral wrapping and three rolls of ribbons.

A message flashes on his phone as he shrugs on his shoulder bag. Turning it on, he sees a message from Taekwoon. One that tells him to come to his place tonight. He scoffs, rolling his eyes at the message. First, he told the older to leave, and now he wants him back!? No way, Hakyeon is too good to be someone’s second. He waves it off, walking home first.

He falls on the sofa the moment he gets home, staring blankly at his ceiling. Well, maybe he isn’t too good to be someone’s second. The time reads five fifty-six pm and Taekwoon wants to meet at seven. He has time to mull over his choices, wondering what Taekwoon wants him over for. Maybe it’s to get back together; but that’s stupid and a fantasy. Or maybe, he wants to just explain things. That, Hakyeon could believe.

A ping on his phone scares him, and a message from Taekwoon again appears on screen.

 **Kitten Blanket Purrito:** Don’t be late *winking emoji*

Hakyeon stares, knowing for a fact that Taekwoon doesn’t send emojis. At least, not winking emojis. He makes a mental note to head over there to see if an alien came down and stole Taekwoon away. However, next thing his knows, he falls asleep. When he awakes, it’s nearly seven pm and his phone is blown up with a thousand and one messages from an unknown number and Taekwoon.

He jerks awake; nearly throwing his cellphone off of his stomach and across the room. _Shit, Taekwoon!_ He grabs his coat, dashing out of his home and down the sidewalk. Running head first to Taekwoon’s door and into his living room. There he’s greeted with the most extravagant sight he’s seen in a long time.

Taekwoon’s living room is lit up with pretty gold lights, like the ones they saw on their very first date. The smell of rain and flowers – lilies – wafts through the air, like he’s in a rain shower. Hakyeon stares at the floor, the lights guiding him towards the kitchen. As he walks through, he sees small candles littering the tables, as if lighting up the walkway for him.

His eyes drifts onto something on the floor, scattered rose petals. Is he getting married? Hakyeon rolls his eyes, another thing he doesn’t think he’ll believe in. In the kitchen, another rush of smells attacks him. Smells of food – tomato, basil, rosemary – and smells of more flowers – Gardenia. The lights continue to guide him, leading him out of the condo and into Taekwoon’s backyard.

Underneath a tall oak tree, sits a table, with brilliant array of lights hanging above. Off to the side, he sees a piano with more lights hanging above it too. Hakyeon tilts his head, slightly confused as to what is happening. Suddenly, someone – Wonshik – appears out of nowhere, scaring the pants off of Hakyeon.

“May I take your coat?” he asks, holding out his arm.

“I guess?” Hakyeon says, shrugging off his coat and handing it to Wonshik. Then, Jaehwan appears, holding out his hand.

“I’m going to guide you to the table. Don’t fight me on this okay?” Hakyeon, too overwhelmed to disagree, takes Jaehwan’s arm. And like a small child, he’s led to the table. Bright golden lights dance on his hair, lighting up the dark in him. In front of him, by the piano, Taekwoon sits. He stares at Hakyeon, a small smile dancing on his face.

Hakyeon leans against the palm of his hand, staring. A world of memories flashes by, the hurt that he had fades away the moment the piano keys are struck. It’s like being thrown into a tornado, slapped by the haunting melody. All of the air in his body suddenly leaves and it’s like he’s being thrown above the world. Hakyeon’s eyes couldn’t leave Taekwoon’s.

And then, the other starts to sing. A soft, melodic sound; one that sounds like what Heaven on earth would sound like. It’s sweet, like cotton candy, sugary on his lips. Even more so, it rises in texture, going from a small fizz to a bubbly concoction on Hakyeon’s tongue. His body tingles when he realizes who the song is for and the words. All the air that was in him, leaves in a blink of an eye. Hakyeon’s eyes are wide, staring slack jawed at Taekwoon.

_The song is for me._

_And these are the words,_

_I cannot say_

_But you are the best thing_

_That will ever be mine_

He finishes his number, looking at Hakyeon. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, heading over to the table. “I didn’t mean… you know, I didn’t want you to…”

“I’m sorry,” Hakyeon blurts out. “Words… Words are stupid. I should’ve known.” A gentle thumb goes over Hakyeon’s cheek. The touch sweet and caring and loving. A blessed feeling, one that sends those familiar sparks down his spine.

“Don’t run again,” Taekwoon mumbles. “You said we’ll try, and good relationships require work. Okay?” Even though, Hakyeon is scared. Even though, Hakyeon is absolutely shit at working for this, he’s willing to try. He nods, blinking up. His eyes glazing over, closing as Taekwoon leans down and gives him a kiss.

It’s soft, light like angel wings. It’s everything while being nothing at the same time. A kiss so sweet that it’s like eating a spoonful of sugar.

A world of visions flashes over, and for once, Hakyeon can see that this one. The relationship is going to work. For once, he throws his grievances out and believe.

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit. This is the longest fan fiction I've ever written
> 
> Also, if you like my work and want to keep supporting me, please don't hesitate to buy me a coffee! http://ko-fi.com/lithium012   
> But it's not required at all!


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